


Dirty little secret

by mishas_minions



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 12:36:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5626915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishas_minions/pseuds/mishas_minions
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I'm sure you've heard of Supernatural conventions, but have you ever wondered what might really be happening behind the scenes?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty little secret

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first Cockles fic, and I wanted it to be more of a fluff type thing rather than smutty. It was planned to be something fun, so I hope you guys enjoy it :)

Misha stood under the hot spray of water, closing his eyes and inhaling the warm steam that radiated from the shower. Typically hotel showers were cold, but this one was the perfect temperature. It felt nice to relax after a long day of interacting with fans throughout the convention. It definitely took a lot out of the cast, but it was worth it.

He hopped out of the shower, drying himself off before slipping on a pair of pyjama bottoms. When he stepped out of the bathroom, the room was filled with loud snoring. He rolled his eyes, smirking at Jensen who was sprawled out across the bed, face buried into the pillows. 

'You leave for ten minutes and he already passes out on you. Typical.' 

The truth is, Misha was tired too. Exhausted, actually. He wanted nothing more than to curl up next to him and drift to sleep, but another part of him wanted something else.

He crawled in beside Jensen and wrapped his arms around him, pressing a few kisses down the side of his neck. The sensation of Misha's lips and hot breath against his skin pulled him from his sleep. He let out a small groan and buried his face deeper into the pillows.

"I'm tired, Mish. I just wanna sleep," he whined, attempting, and failing, to shove him away. Misha chuckled, rubbing his nose along his stubbled cheek.

"Come on, I'm not tired." Jensen peeked up from the pillows, his green eyes barely visible through the narrow slits of his tired eyes.

"Well, I am, so try to sleep." 

Misha let out an exaggerated sigh, flopping his head back down onto his own pillow.

"You're no fun... I guess it's cause you're getting old."

"Excuse me?!"

"Oh god... I'm dating an old man," Misha teased.

"Shut up," Jensen muttered, lightly smacking him with a pillow. "You're older than me, you dick." 

Now they were both laughing so hard they couldn't breathe. They always managed to bring the best out of each other. Jensen didn't laugh much anymore, but whenever he was with Misha it felt like he'd never be able to stop. There was something about him that was just so compelling. 

Jensen knew this entire thing was wrong. When you have a wife and a beautiful daughter, the last thing on your mind should be having sex with one of your best friends. The thing is, Jensen missed Danneel all the time, because he hardly saw her. He maybe saw her two or three times each week, but he saw Misha almost every single day, and on the convention weekends he hung out with him the entire time. The relationship between himself and Misha was... experimental, you could say. Sure, Jensen got butterflies whenever Misha entered the room. Sure, the sex they had was the best he'd ever had, but that didn't mean anything... right? This was all just for fun when they were away from their wives, and he was sure Misha felt the exact same way. 

Misha glanced over at him, his blue eyes glistening.

"Is something wrong, Jen?" He asked,  
noticing he was lost in thought. Jensen gave him a reassuring smile, resting his head against Misha's bare chest.

"No, I'm fine." 

Misha was still a bit suspicious, because he always knew when something was bothering Jensen, but he shrugged it off, too exhausted to pry for information. 

He combed his hands through Jensen's hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead. Jensen couldn't help but smile. Misha made him so happy. 

Sadness quickly dawned on him though when he remembered that this would only last a little while longer, because in a few weeks he'd be at Asylum 16, the convention Misha wasn't attending. That meant he wouldn't be able to see him for around a month. His heart ached at the thought of being away from him for so long. Who would calm him down when he got nervous before a panel? Who would help him unwind in bed after another hectic day at the convention? As the thoughts flooded his mind, he gripped Misha's arm. Misha placed a hand over his, stroking his wrist with his thumb.

"Jensen, seriously, is everything--" his voice caught in his throat when Jensen's hands cupped his face. He took his bottom lip in between his teeth, sucking and bitting it until it turned red, then soothing it by gliding his tongue across the sensitive area. Misha smirked and pulled him closer, their lips colliding.

"I'm just gonna miss you... that's all," Jensen muttered in between kisses. He felt Misha's lips curve into a frown against his skin as he pulled away. "Don't... don't stop... please." The one thing he didn't want to do was admit that, but most importantly, not letting it get in the way of whatever they were about to do.

Misha looked at him with such admiration it made his heart swell. His ears heated up and he ducked his head, hoping he could hide the rosiness of his cheeks. Misha's index finger slipped underneath his chin, tilting his head back up. 

"I'm gonna miss you, too," Misha finally said, pressing their foreheads together and closing his eyes.

"What am I gonna do if I get nervous? I've never been to one of these things without you."

Misha let out a low chuckle, gliding his thumb along his jawline, "just find another guy to fuck, that always calms me down."

"Misha, I'm being serious." 

He opened his eyes to see the concerned look Jensen wore. Suddenly, he felt a surge of guilt. Jensen was actually scared, and he tried to make a joke out of it. That seemed to be what he did best in times where he felt uneasy or unsure of what to say. 

"I know... I'm sorry." He flopped down onto his back and snaked an arm around Jensen's shoulder, allowing him to cuddle up into his side. "How about we talk for a little bit?" He asked, desperate to change the subject.

Jensen nosed into the crook of his neck, closing his eyes and releasing a puff of warm air against his skin.

"I thought you wanted to--"

"Forget what I said, Jen. You're tired and nervous, screw what I want. I don't need to be sucking your dick tonight, and honestly, I'd rather talk to you and help make you feel better, if I can." Jensen bit his bottom lip, his heart lighting up like the fourth of July. He knew Misha was the one being serious now, but it was hard not to get giddy at the thought of Misha sucking his dick. After taking a brief moment to compose himself, he continued.

"I've always gotten anxious before going onstage, no matter how big or how small the convention was. It's kinda a stage fright thing. Sometimes it's worse than other's, as you've witnessed." Jensen remembered it like it was yesterday. The convention was huge, and Jared wasn't there. He was floundering, completely dying on stage. He never felt more terrified in his life. Thankfully, they sent Misha out to help calm him down, and being the amazing guy that he is, he stayed up there and helped out with the panel. It did help him relax, but he felt like such a fool for needing someone up there with him. That was it. Everyone knew he was shy-- weak, can't handle being onstage for forty five minutes without needing support. He felt like the crowd hated him for being so boring up until Misha saved the day.

The second they walked offstage, Jensen lost it. Tears were streaming down his face, he was hyperventilating, felt nauseous, and to top it all off, his whole body was trembling. To this day, he didn't really know what had set him off, but even on his worst day at a convention, Misha managed to calm him down. All he had to do was pull him aside, away from the rest of the cast, hold him in his arms, and rub tiny circles into the small of his back. Occasionally (if there wasn't many people around) he would whisper reassuring words into his ear while stroking a hand through his hair. It calmed him down almost instantly, being held tightly in his arms. Misha made him feel better all the time. Sometimes, he didn't even get nervous before going onstage simply because he knew if something went wrong, Misha would be there to make it all go away.

Misha skated the tips of his fingers up and down Jensen's back in a soothing motion, the hair on the back of his neck prickling at the sensation. 

"We've still got tomorrow, Jen. I'll even crash yours and Jared's afternoon panel to squeeze in some extra time with you, if you want." Jensen smiled at the thought of his two best friends onstage with him, in front of the sea of fans.

"I'd like that," he breathed, placing a kiss just below Misha's nipple. When Misha chuckled, it sounded muffled against his ear.

"Alright, now get some sleep and stop worrying about something that's weeks away. You've got a big day tomorrow."

"Okay, Mom," Jensen teased, stifling a yawn. 

Misha playfully punched his shoulder, then rested his chin on top of his head. Jensen closed his eyes and let himself slip into unconsciousness as he listened to the steady rhythm of Misha's breathing. 

Misha lay there for quite some time, seemingly unable to shut his brain off. Something had been bothering him lately, and he wasn't sure what it meant -- or if it meant anything for that matter, but he figured now was as good of a time as any to figure it out. It took him longer than he'd liked to build up the confidence, even though Jensen was asleep, it was still nerve racking.

"I... I love you." It came out so fast and breathlessly, it felt like he hadn't said it at all. Surprisingly, a huge weight was lifted off his shoulders, as if he'd been carrying it for years. Even if he hadn't actually heard it, maybe one day he'd be able to say it when he could.

Jensen muttered something incoherent in his sleep, as if a reply, and Misha smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek. That was good enough for him.

***********************

Misha awoke the next morning to the sound of running water. Jensen was standing in front of the bathroom mirror, adjusting his shirt collar, a toothbrush hanging out of the side of his mouth. He glanced over at him apologetically.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You should go back to sleep, it's really early. I'm just heading down to the gold panel," he said, spitting the toothpaste out into the sink and taking a swig of water. 

"You were gonna leave without saying goodbye? This is our last private moment together, I'm offended." 

Jensen loved the way Misha's voice sounded in the morning. It was pretty much the same, except it was a tinge more gravelly and it cracked if he tried to talk too high. 

"You're right, what was I thinking?" He replied sarcastically, making his way over to the bed and bending down, kissing him chastely. His mouth tasted like fresh mint from the toothpaste. Misha groaned, wrapping his arms around him, desperately wanting him to crawl back in bed and spend the rest of the morning with him, even though he knew he couldn't. 

"I've gotta go," Jensen mumbled into his mouth, hesitantly pulling away. "Oh, by the way, I love you, too." 

Misha's heart dropped into his stomach. He gulped, beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"B-But... how did you--"

"Lucky for me, I woke up just in time to hear that."

"Shit," Misha muttered under his breath, mentally slapping himself. 

Jensen slipped on his jacket, heading towards the door.

"I'll see you later." Before exiting the room, he turned back for a moment to add, "I'll be expecting you to crash that panel." He shot a wink in his direction before disappearing into the hallway, the door clicking shut.

Misha sucked on his bottom lip. He could still taste Jensen and the mintiness of his breath. The ghost of clinging arms made his skin prickle. He longed to taste Jensen one last time. A month without him would be torture, that couldn't have been the last kiss they shared. If he hurried, he may still be able to catch up to him. 

Toppling out of bed, he stumbled over to the dresser and pulled on one of Jensen's t-shirts, in too much of a rush to care which one.

As he ran down the hallway, he could see Jensen stepping into the elevator. Jensen pressed the button for the lobby and the doors began closing. Just when they were about to shut, an arm slipped through the crack and halted them. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion as they opened back up. Misha stepped inside, panting.

"Misha? What are you doing here?"

"I forgot something."

Jensen cocked his head to the side, "what--" Misha slammed Jensen up against the wall in a hot, messy kiss before he could finish his sentence.

Jensen yelped in surprise, but quickly redeemed himself by taking a fist full of his shirt, yanking him impossibly closer. 

The elevator made dinging noises as it descended. They made a silent prayer of thanks every time it successfully passed each floor without someone barging in, giving them no choice but to break apart.

Misha's hands traveled down the curves of his back until they reached his butt. He gave his cheeks a quick squeeze, and Jensen giggled into his mouth. Jensen slipped his hands underneath the hem of his shirt, restraining himself from ripping it off completely. He traced lines down his chest, spreading his hand out to feel the goosebumps rippling his skin. 

When Misha began thrusting against him, he had to bite down on his bottom lip to control himself, coming close to drawing blood. The elevator shook as Misha moved rhythmically against him. 

"M-Misha," Jensen stammered, pupils blown wide with lust.

Misha placed kisses down his neck, sucking on a patch of skin until it turned red and raw. He then began unbuttoning his blouse, tracing a wet line across his collar bone with the tip of his tongue.

"Oh god... Misha," he breathed, gripping the elevator bar behind him so tight that his knuckles turned white. He lifted his head to catch Jensen's swollen lip in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue. Jensen was now moaning, tugging at Misha's hair, begging him to stop before his dick exploded in his fresh pair of jeans. 

Misha slid his hand just below the waist band of his pants, shamelessly playing with Jensen's hard cock.

"Jensen, I want to hear you scream," Misha rasped, tightening his grip on his dick. Jensen let out a small cry, his head shooting back.

His heart was pounding in his ears, he could feel the blood coursing through his veins, and his voice was hoarse. He wanted nothing more than to rip Misha's shirt off and kiss his way down to his crotch, and it killed him knowing he couldn't. The amount of strength it took to control his desires was overwhelming.

A loud ding sounded, and the elevator came to a halt. Misha quickly pulled away and spun Jensen around, turning him to face the doors which had already opened to a large group of people. Jensen's face went beat red when he realized his shirt was unbuttoned, his hair was ruffled, and he was sure there was a hickey on his neck somewhere.

"Go get 'em tiger," Misha whispered, slapping his butt on the way out. Jensen glared at him, struggling to hide the bulge in his pants. 

Misha had to cover his mouth to hide his laughter. 

"I hate you," Jensen grumbled, running his hands through his hair.

"No you don't, you love me." 

Jensen turned back as the doors began closing, a small smile curving his lips, "ya... I do."


End file.
